


Antumbra

by rawrxsushii



Series: Behind the Lines [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, New kid gets fucked up, Other, POV Alternating, Slightly - Freeform, but mostly OC-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 17:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rawrxsushii/pseuds/rawrxsushii
Summary: As another year in Hogwarts starts, another mystery unfolds. For Matthias, that becomes the secret of his parentage and the desire for vengeance. Keeping his intentions a secret from everyone close to him, Matthias seeks out help from an unwilling mentor and suddenly finds himself becoming an unknowing pawn to the rise of a great evil no one expected to return.





	Antumbra

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER for the entire series: The magical world and characters of Harry Potter will forever be the property of the magical J.K Rowling. I am only using them to showcase my love for her franchise and characters. They will never be mine. I wish they can though but alas, they will never will. Only the characters you've never heard of are mine. Matthias mainly.
> 
> PSA: This is a sequel work of my Harry Potter OC-insert side-story fic "Black from Azkaban" While it isn't really necessary to read it, I recommend that you do as the first few chapters of this fic will be slow to catch up with the main canon-story and instead focus on building OC backstory and motivations. It can be a little off putting if you're not aware of the characters and relationships built in the previous. Don't worry, if you so decide to read the previous, that one starts right off the bat with Hogwarts.
> 
> Additional notes. To save myself from the torture that is Google translate, dialogues will have 3.5 types:
> 
> Foreign dialogue between people who have that as their first language will be like this "Insert text here" 
> 
> Foreign language said within English dialogue can either be like this "Insert text additional here" or " _Einfügen_ text here"

Early Sunday mornings in Chelsea are usually uneventful.

Very few adults have the willpower to actually wake at the ungodly hour of 7 AM when it's the only day in the week they're allowed to sleep in after five, maybe six, exhausting days at work. Children, however, have a different idea.

As the big hand turned to 8 AM and the sun took its rightful place up in the uncanny blue colored sky, a number of children came barreling out their own homes while dragging bicycles at their side. They gathered by the sidewalk in excited fits of laughter before they huddled towards the empty highway and cycled their way up to the park nearby.

A girl driving her little four wheeled bike yelled for the others ahead to slow down, just as a paper boy swerved out of their way to avoid them. The young man raised a fisted hand in the air and shouted at them to stay away from the streets.

The group of children merely laughed at him and took a unanimous turn towards the nearby park.

The paper boy shook his head and cursed the existence of rowdy children in London and quickly returned to minding his own business. He picked up plastic bound periodicals from his satchel and threw it absentmindedly unto multiple porches of tightly sandwiched homes.

He took a sharp right from an upcoming curve and cycled his way towards the higher end residency street in Chelsea, aptly named as Swan Walk.

Pete has been handling the newspaper duties of Swan Walk ever since he was ten year old, so seeing houses that were approximately 5 times bigger and possibly more costly than most Londoner's can afford didn't surprise him anymore. Despite being so posh and dainty, the village remained the same as every London residence street – unusual to look at.

That is, until about a year ago, when Pete noticed something most peculiar.

Seemingly out of nowhere, specifically in the roundabout, that doubled as a small playground for the children in the neighborhood, found in the middle of the cul-de-sac that bordered the Swan Walk street, now housed a two story residence.

No one seemed to think differently about the house when it appeared so suddenly, even Pete didn't think much about it when its address was added to his list of deliveries. It looked like most of the houses surrounding it, perhaps even too identical, but Pete didn't mind it. It's just another payday for him. But three weeks ago, he saw something that finally made him listen to the question he'd been ignoring for so long.

Pete is certain he saw a goblin inside that house.

Pete has always been fascinated with magical creatures, he even has Dungeons and Dragon sessions every Thursday with the boys in his apartment complex, but he's never hallucinated or dreamt about their campaigns. He's always kept reality and fantasy as far away as he can from each other, so it doesn't muddle with his o-so-regular-life, but apparently he hasn't been doing a pretty good job at it if he saw a goblin with his own two eyes.

He's fairly sure he wasn't drunk nor dreaming of that day either.

Pete pressed on the brake of his bicycle and stopped right in front of 100 Swan Walk, where a dark blue '73 Chevrolet Impala was also parked. He studied the well maintained coating of the luxury brand car and scoffed. He may be suspicious of the house and its residents, but he can't deny them of having good taste in automobiles.

Pete pulled out a newspaper from his bag and angled his aim for the doorbell. He threw it after a calculated guess of its distance and force, and a faint chime echoed inside the house as it hit. Pete dragged his bike behind the Impala and lowered himself, hiding from the goblin that might be fooled into a false sense of security.

One minute.

Pete frowned impatiently as nothing seemed to move inside the house.

Two minutes – nothing or no one came to pick the newspaper from the porch. Pete scoured around for a rock and chunked it at the front door, hopefully to get lucky and hit the doorbell again. Unfortunately, he underestimated his own strength and flung it to the window on the second floor by accident.

Pete paled up at the sound of glass shattering and immediately jumped on his and pedaled away from the cul-de-sac. His personal vendetta against this house isn't over. He  _will_  return. He swears on it. Maybe he should bring a camera next time…

* * *

Meanwhile, inside the seemingly empty house of 100 Swan Lake, a black haired young adult male wearing a beige knit sweater, navy blue jeans, and black socks, sat up from the sofa in alarm when he heard something shatter.

He moved from his seat and stormed towards the front door, eyes glaring down at the panicked house-elf wearing a dirty yellow, floral pillow case, staring at the obvious hole on the window above.

"T-t-t-t-the Mmm-m-muggle oww –" the house-elf stuttered nervously, "– ow – owl mess-ssss-messenger th-th-threw a-a-a-a-a –" The elf abruptly stopped – the man looking down at him had turned away and ignored the rest of what the smaller creature had to say.

The man question looked around for a small object that may have caused the damage and spotted a small sediment lying near the door frame of the living room. He crouched down to pick it up and studied it for a while. His eyes looked back at the still shaking house-elf and lazily threw the rock at its feet.

The elf jumped and stumbled back to its behind, still shaking.

The young man scoffed and irritably said, "Get the paper and fix that window. I don't want to deal with insects in this house."

The house-elf's ears perked up and immediately stood up. "Y-y-ye-yess! Sss-s-s-sir!" he stuttered again.

With a low bow, the house-elf quickly did as told and waved a hand to reconstruct the window to its former state. He tapped their head once to blend in, pillow case included, with their environment then jumped towards the door knob. In one quick succession of movements, the house-elf swung the door open and ran to grab the rolled up newspaper on the ground and dashed right back in.

The poor terrified creature slammed the door a little too loudly behind him and earned another scolding from the young master. The elf immediately stuttered back an apology out loud then scampered over to the living room to hand over the paper.

Johannes Braun took the periodical off the house-elf's hands and casually ripped off the plastic wrapping around it. "To think that a Muggle would have the guts to resort to violence just to get a glimpse of you," he drawled out as he scanned through the headlines. "Aren't you flattered Pliers?"

Pliers shook a little and lowered their gaze. "N-n-n-not pha-pha-paarti-ti-ti-culaaaarly, s-s-s-sssir. O-o-oh –" he swallowed. "It was O-O-O-lli-Ollies fault, n-n-n-nnnot m-mi-mine, sir."

Johann chuckled as he turned a page. "And so it was," he agreed. "Tis' a shame really. I liked Ollie. She's fun to have around." He narrowed his eyes irritably at Pliers and slurred, "Unlike a stuttering mess like you."

"Urgh," the wizard grunted. "This is why I told mutter I should be in charge of picking the new elf. None of them stays long enough to bother living with you."

"I-I-I'm t-t-t-erribb-l-l-ly ssss- s- sssor-sorry, sir," Pliers bowed apologetically.

Johann rolled his eyes and leaned back on the couch, raising his legs and feet on the small ivory made coffee table before him. He could really care less about how inefficient Pliers worked in this household, he's just new after all. What he  _can't_  stand is the elf's stuttering. Out of all the willing house-helpers, it just had to be the one with the defect.

He waved Pliers off to get him off his back, and an unsaid order to get the former his coffee forced the elf to exit the room and dash towards the kitchen.

Pliers' scarred feet made little scratching noises on the wine red aisle carpet as he ran through of the simplistic Glidden water chestnut colored hallway decorated with moving portraits. A couple of them scolded the house-elf to slow down, while some berated the way his stuttering annoyed them from the grave. One portrait even tried to throw a glass at him from within their frame when Pliers compulsively apologized. Thankfully enough, whatever is in a painting, stays in a painting.

Taking a left turn from the long hallway of magical portraits, Plier's slowed down to enter the dining hall of the mysteriously "larger on the inside" house-hold and pushed his way through another doorway at the back end of the room.

Another house-elf tending to the fire under the oven looked up at Pliers and immediately understood the look he sent her. The other house-elf made circular motions with her hands and as if on cue, a clean coffee pot, a container of sugar and cream, a spoon, a plate, a mug, and a silver tray all floated out of their respective cabinets and arranged themselves properly on the centerpiece.

Pliers watched in awe as the other elf did all the necessary preparations while simultaneously tending to the food baking inside the oven. He opened their mouth to offer his help, but was stopped by the other elf when she raised her hand.

The other elf snapped and water magically filled the coffee pot to the brim. Another casual wave of her hand, transformed the colorless water into dark brown and soon began steaming on its own.

The house-elf then pulled out a tray of freshly baked pastry from inside the oven and lifted them towards the plate. She guided the tray down from table and nodded at Pliers to get him going.

Pliers stuttered a slew of gratitude towards her then darted right back to the living room, where Johann lay waiting, his head leaning down on one arm while the other held the newspaper up. He set the tray down on the table and prepared the drink as Johann liked it – one cube of sugar with two spoons of powdered creamed milk.

Johann accepted the drink without as so much as a thank you and Pliers anxiously opened and closed his mouth to say something, but ultimately kept quiet. The young master does not like it when he speaks out of place; especially with that annoying stutter of his.

This kept going for a minute or two until Johann finally grew tired of the elf's antsy gestures. "You have something you want to say," he blandly said.

"I-i-if mmm-ma-master, w-w-would pe-per –" Pliers bit his tongue. "Pe-permit, sir."

Johann shrugged. "Granted."

"Sh-sh-shhh-shouldn't-shouldn't m-m-ma-masssster h-h-have er-era-erase-d – erased the-the-the uh… uh…. M-mmm-muggles m-me-memm-memory s-s-sss –" he stopped and swallowed, before trying slowly again. "Sir?"

"Oh right, father did ask that of me," Johann recalled. He looked up at the ceiling as though thinking it over, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Ah well, I can always do that next week."

Pliers frowned. "B-b-b-ut! Old M-mmm-master as-assk-asked th-that of-ff- of you t-t-t-two w-w-weeks agggggg-o too, s-s-s-ssssir!"

"Right," Johann agreed. "I just didn't feel like doing it back then, or the week before that, or today. Besides," he tilted his head, "whose going to believe some nerdy paper boy that they saw an elf? They'd just think he's on cocaine or something."

Pliers' ears twitched upon hearing the familiar name. He doesn't know what it is exactly, but the youngest master has mentioned it quite a few times in passing ever since Pliers first joined the household. Pliers knew it was something akin to being illegal in the Muggle world, and silently wondered why his master – a wizard – would even be interested in it.

Not only that, in his short stay with his new employ, Pliers has learned that his young master, and his younger brother, are both interested and rather well-versed in a lot of Muggle knowledge despite being pure-bloods themselves.

It's not unheard of, but Pliers fully expected his new employ to be similar to other purebloods he worked for previously who avoid anything Muggle like the plague. "I-I-It wou-wou-would b-b-b-b-be c-care-care-careless," Pliers started, "of-of-of y-yyyou s-s-sssir t-t-t-to-to llllet th-th-this-sss go o-o-on..."

"I don't think I allowed you to speak your mind, Pliers," Johann said sternly.

Pliers apologized lowly.

"Look," Johann sighed, "that boy can't do anything to harm us or the magical community. Dumber wizards have tried and those equally naïve Muggles still turn a blind eye to it – calling it fake or some public stunt. It is literally make a living selling magical artifacts to Muggles and they still think it's a scam. So, let me ask you again, do you think I would let that guy go if I saw him as a threat?"

Pliers shook his head.

"Now you're getting it," Johann nodded. "That boy is no different from the idiots I've scammed and sooner or later, if we keep a low profile and not get caught, he'll forget about it. No need to waste magic on him. You got that?"

"Crystal s-s-sssir," Pliers nodded in understanding.

"Good, now get out of my sight before I get in another mood again. I've had enough of your stuttering." Johann shooed away the poor elf.

"But before that," Johann added. "Wake Matthias up would you, I'm sure he wouldn't like to miss some of Gilly's cookies. Prepare some chocolate for him too, it pains me how that little brother of mine simply can't handle caffeine like I do."

Pliers lowered their head and ran back to the kitchen to relay the order to Gilly, then ran all the way back up to the house's second floor to disturb the younger Braun from their slumber.

* * *

Matthias never imagined waking up in a war zone in his entire life.

The young wizard currently took protective cover under the wooden frame of his bed while a small, scaled, flying creature, wreaked havoc in his room. It screeched angrily somewhere in the room and Matthias flinched at the sound of something heavy falling over.

He  _really_  wished that wasn't the television.

Another shattering sound, akin to breaking glass, echoed in the room and Matthias bit his lip, urging himself to not cry. Now,  _that_  was definitely the television.

The dastardly devil screeched again and Matthias felt some sort of weight land on the mattress above him. He held his breath as the springs creaked at every small force applied on the surface of the bed. Matthias' eyes trailed after the smooth curves forming on the mattress and gasped in surprise when a pair of blue-green colored scaled legs dropped down on the floor.

Matthias' hands flew over to his mouth just as the creature lowered its long neck to peek under the bed. Their eyes met and Matthias paled up the moment the creature's yellow colored eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

It pounced to strike and Matthias quickly rolled out of the wyvern's reach when it snapped its jagged snout at him.

Matthias crawled out from under the bed while the winged reptile desperately tried to fit its size after him. He climbed up over the mattress and heard the wyvern cry out under the unwanted weight above it as the former moved to jump over the beast.

The wyvern finally pried itself from under the bed frame, tumbling back from the force, and catching itself on its two hind legs. It shook its head for a moment then met eyes with Matthias who just landed on all fours a few feet away.

Its tail swayed excitedly at the look of horror in Matthias face, before moving to pounce once again.

Matthias ducked and chuckled at the sound the poor little beast made as it hit the wall, but did not falter in his retreat. The young wizard continued bee lining towards the door out of his room but was shocked to find his book and figurine cases blocking his only exit.

The wyvern screeched and Matthias clicked his tongue. The bloody creature planned for this.

Making a quick turn, Matthias ran back to his bed to make his final stand. His wand lay waiting on his head desk, if he can only grab it in time, then he may have a future still. Unfortunately for him, the wyvern seemed to have expected this and flew right over the young wizard.

The wyvern flicked its tail as it flew over Matthias in an attempt to blind him, and the latter threw his arms up to block it.

Matthias defended a little too late and yelped out at the feeling of rough scales brushing past his face. That's going to leave a scratch. Regardless of whether he will lose the beauty of his face or not, Matthias continued his pursuits to achieve protection behind his covers.

The wyvern circled around and followed after him, once again swooping down to terrorize the young wizard.

The brunette dodged the attempts to stall him this time around, only to meet his demise by hitting his knee on an overturned chair and falls over. Matthias cradles his aching lower limb in pain and hisses out a profanity when the wyvern merely hovered above him as though mocking him.

Matthias grabs a loose piece of clothing to his right and threw it over the small creature to give himself time to recover.

The wyvern cried in distress as the jacket blinded them and forced it to land to de-tangle itself out. Growing more and more frustrated from the lack of sight, the creature rips through the clothing instead and crawls out. It immediately pushes itself off the ground and followed after its prey.

Matthias reached out to grab his wand but was tackled unto the bed by a large mass. He lands on the soft bedding with a soft huff as air was forced out of his lungs because of the additional weight on his back. He tried to push himself upright but the wyvern kept most of its weight on him to keep him down.

The wyvern lightly kneads its hind legs on Matthias' back, softly, and tenderly, until the pressure grows and Matthias began feeling the talons scratch his skin.

"OW – OW – OW – OW OKAY TIME OUT!" he begged "RHAEGIS, TIME OUT!"

The wyvern, aptly named as Rhaegis, stopped her kneading and cocked its head to the side in soft contemplation. She lowly purred before jumping off Matthias' back and inching her snout close to his face. The wyvern made a little noise before twirling after her tail and tucking herself beneath her wings. She wiggled her body, trying to bury herself deeper unto the mattress as she nestled comfortably on the bed.

Matthias pushed himself up and shook his head amusingly at his rowdy new pet. "You really have no concept of holding back, do you?"

Rhaegis blows air out of her nose in response and Matthias laughs. He carefully pets her head and sits up on the bed to assess the damage of today's freak out-slash-game of tag.

His dresser, which he assumed fell earlier, has indeed fallen to the side and littered all his clean clothes on the floor. Beside the said mess of clothes is the jacket he used as a backup plan, which now, unfortunately, has been torn to shreds. His eyes then turned to the book and figurine case blocking the door. He hoped that none of his priceless collections were destroyed beyond repair underneath that.

The television, which he heard break, was yanked off its shelf and his Super Nintendo Entertainment System now dangled off the corner. Only the plug kept it from completely falling over, but it looked like it could break off at any moment. Matthias quickly and gently pushed it back to the shelf to avoid further damage.

Sitting down on his legs, Matthias surveyed his room further and noted the papers scattered around, the curtains ripped apart, and the pillows mauled to death. He frowned to himself, then to Rhaegis, who seemed unaffected by the carnage she did and pretended to sleep it off.

On a regular day, Rhaegis would usually have a lot more self-control than this. There would be damage, of course, but never to this extent. Matthias tried to recall what happened to evoke such violent tendencies from his pet and could only remember the sound of shattering glass upon waking up.

Whoever or whatever made that loud shattering sound definitely spurred the wrong emotions off Rhaegis and the next thing Matthias knows, he's hiding under the bed to get away from the formers uncontrollable outburst.

Matthias laughed. The little guy can't breathe fire or spit acid, but she sure can make the same amount of mess a baby dragon can.

A knock on the door prompted Matthias and Rhaegis to watch as Pliers head peeked through it. The house elf's eyes grew wide in horror upon taking in the havoc he just stumbled into and turned to Matthias at lost for words, "I – I –" Pliers' struggled to begin.

"It's okay Pliers, take your time," Matthias said considerately. He knows the poor elf is suffering some kind of stuttering disorder that he can't really control so Matthias tries to be patient with him; unlike his dear old brother who has none of it.

Rhaegis stretched out her wings and flew over to the shelf blocking the door. A soft sound rumbled from her chest as though saying a greeting towards the other magical creature before her.

Pliers looked alarmed at the winged creature for a second before turning to Matthias who was still waiting on him to continue.

"Ah – I – M-mmm-master w-w-want-wants you t-t-to-to j-j-j-oin," Pliers exhales, "h-hiiiim for br-break-break-f-fff-fast."

"Sure," Matthias grinned. "You don't mind fixing this up do you? Rhaegis got too excited today."

Pliers nodded his head and snapped his fingers. Something glittered from the tip of their fingers that scattered around Matthias' room that reversed all the chaos into what it once was.

Rhaegis jumped off the shelf and screeched lightly as she watched time seemingly reverse around them. She flew next to Matthias and perched on his shoulder, yellow eyes staring intently at the house-elf with great curiosity.

Once everything returned to their rightful place and condition, Pliers excused himself from the room and left Matthias to change out of his sleeping clothes. Rhaegis grabbed her little unicorn stuffed animal and accompanied the anxiously shaking elf down to the living room.

As he changed and groomed himself to look presentable, Matthias recalled the amusing events that lead him and his brother to care for such a small but terrifying creature.

True to his word, or rather his present last Christmas, Johann presented him with a well preserved Wyvern egg the moment he got back from Hogwarts. The story of how his brother got his grimy hands on it remains to be a trade secret, but Matthias is certain that he paid a good amount of money and people to get it.

Regardless of its origins, he and Johann agreed to raise it together, like they should a real pet, but the title of who  _owns_  it per se was a fight neither wanted to lose. Soon enough they agreed to settle it by trusting in the principle of imprinting. So there they stood, side by side, almost shoulder to shoulder, in front of the fireplace as they waited for the egg to crack under the molten flames.

As luck would have it, the newly hatched wyvern looked at Matthias first and understood him to be her mother.

Suffice to say Johann was pretty devastated that he couldn't keep the wyvern that he paid thousands of Galleons for but soon found it a relief that he wouldn't be tasked with the burden of caring for another living breathing creature.

Matthias however can't say the same.

He thought caring for a wyvern would be similar to caring for an owl – Johann would sometimes pay him to take care of Tempest, his pet owl, whenever he was feeling especially lazy – and assumed it would be as simple as feeding it, grooming it, letting the other fly around, and cleaning its coop. Matthias can never have been more wrong.

Taking care of Rhaegis, as Matthias learned, included feeding her five times a day with at least a thousand grams of raw meat, constantly having to live with being kneaded by sharp talons, messily wrestling her out of the bath because she enjoys it way too much, and making sure she doesn't chew or break anything that  _Stiefmutter_  owns because Rhaegis has shown much interest in sparkly things.

Soon after those complications arose, Matthias knew he couldn't raise the wyvern on his own and since his brother decided to pettily not help, he had to employ the help of someone else. And Theodore Nott was more than just a saving grace when Matthias wrote him a letter about his new problem pet.

Theodore was ecstatic to hear about the existence of a smaller, less deadly version of a dragon and was more than eager to help Matthias care for it during the summer. He was quick to plan a visit to see her for himself but was unfortunately cut short by his father's disapproving hand.

The elder Nott did  _not_  want Theodore associating with a Muggle-lover like Matthias.

Granted it was majorly Zabini's fault, who smuggled in alcohol inside the manor during their sleep-over-slash-birthday celebration for Matthias; it was mainly Matthias fault for brining video games over when Theodore specifically told him not to. Add two and two together and Mister Nott caught them all drunk shouting at the television Matthias had Johann bring in, in the middle of the night, and was more than furious at seeing his son touching and using anything Muggle.

Matthias didn't really fault the older Nott for seeing him as such a bad influence because for all it's worth, he sort of it. He knows the mistakes he's made during that sleepover and is fairly sure he received a red penalty card for a life from stepping anywhere near the Nott's ever again.

That didn't stop him and Theodore from keeping correspondence with each other however. Theodore remained a helpful friend as always and provided Matthias with behavioral notes on how professional dragon tamers handled these little quirks that Rhaegis may have shared from her larger reptilian cousins. And lo and behold, Matthias did make good use of them.

He should probably tell Theodore about this little outburst today just in case he can explain why and how to prevent it from happening again. Theodore would like to hear from him after all, they co-raised Rhaegis.

Finally ruffling his hair to the right amount of mess that he likes, Matthias shot two finger guns at his own reflection and moved to join Johann and Rhaegis in the living room.


End file.
